What do people regret most at the end of life, and what can those regrets teach us about practice now?

Drawing on the five regrets of the dying and the fears that shape the small self, Sensei Michael Brunner explores courage, authenticity, friendship, livelihood, and the urgency of using our time well. This talk is a direct reminder that Zen practice is not about avoiding life, but meeting it fully, facing what we fear, and refusing to squander the life we have.

In Book of Serenity Case 63, “Jōshū Asks About Death,” Jōshū asks what happens when one who has experienced the “great death” returns to life. Tōsu’s answer points beyond insight itself and toward the harder question: how do we actually live after seeing through the stories that define us?

In this talk, Sensei Michael Brunner reflects on the dropping away of the small self, the danger of Zen sickness and spiritual bypassing, and the necessity of returning fully to ordinary life. Practice is not an escape from suffering, responsibility, or relationship. It is learning to meet them directly and respond with clarity, compassion, and skill.

In Blue Cliff Record Case 3, “Master Ma Is Unwell,” the great Zen teacher Mazu Daoyi is asked about his failing health. His answer is simple: “Sun-faced Buddha, moon-faced Buddha.”

In this talk, Sensei Michael Brunner explores what it means to meet both vitality and decline with equanimity, to loosen our grip on fixed stories about ourselves, and to remain open to the whole of life. Along the way, he turns to Hakuin’s famous “Is that so?” as a vivid example of compassion without defensiveness and practice without escape.

In Blue Cliff Record Case 36, “Chōsha Roams the Mountains,” Chōsha returns from the mountains and says, “First, I followed the fragrant grasses on the way out. Then I came back, pursuing the falling flowers.”

What does it mean to move through life so fully that the self is forgotten? In this talk, Sensei Michael Brunner explores direct experience, dropping away, and the practice of coming home to the life that is already here.

In Blue Cliff Record Case 40, “Nansen’s ‘This Flower,’” a profound Buddhist teaching is answered with something far simpler: a flower in the garden. What is the difference between understanding the Dharma and actually seeing what is right in front of us?

In this talk, Sensei Michael Brunner explores beginner’s mind, samadhi, prajna, and the danger of allowing even spiritual teachings to harden into fixed ideas. Nansen’s flower points us back to direct experience, before judgment, explanation, and certainty take over.

Transcript of the third lecture in a four-part series on the Dhammapada delivered by Sensei Michael Brunner at One River Zen in Ottawa, IL

Transcript of the second lecture in a four-part series on the Dhammapada delivered by Sensei Michael Brunner at One River Zen in Ottawa, IL

Sensei Michael Brunner explores Dōgen’s Uji (Being-Time) and why Zen practice begins by fully inhabiting the life, conditions, and challenges already here.

Transcript of the first lecture in a four-part series on the Dhammapada delivered by Sensei Michael Brunner at One River Zen in Ottawa, IL

A Zen teaching on Book of Equanimity Case 45, “The Sutra of Complete Awakening,” exploring delusion, uncertainty, Great Doubt, and what happens when we stop trying to fix ourselves and meet life directly.

In this talk by Sensei Michael Brunner on Shoyoroku Case 27, we explore how quickly the mind turns direct experience into judgment, meaning, and explanation, and what Zen practice asks of us instead: to meet life as it is, engage what is directly in front of us, and allow that encounter to make a real demand on how we live.

There is a great temptation in our practice to simplify the story of the self by excluding the feelings of others.

When we look carefully, we notice that there are many different identities contained within our notion of self. Each of these identities, when we cling to it or dwell within it, drives our actions, or karma.

Until we know who is living our life, until we see what is operating unconsciously as we try to hold the idea of self together, we will remain bound by it.

Complaining is a kind of spiritual impotence. When we complain, we sit around saying that we are no longer in the driver’s seat, that we are no longer exerting the activity required to mend what, in our opinion, has gone wrong.

Past, future, and the direct intimacy of this moment

Where do we enter the practice of Zen?

We often imagine that practice begins when our circumstances improve, when our minds become quiet, or when we finally understand what we are supposed to be doing. Yet Zen always begins in the life that is already here. Grief, uncertainty, pleasure, pain, memory, hope, and doubt are not obstacles standing between us and the Way. Each one is an entrance.

This talk considers Case 81 of the Shōyōroku, “Gensha Comes to the Province,” and the invitation to meet our whole life within the immediacy of the present moment.

…when you find yourself feeling like you’re running out of steam, simply go out and give whatever little love you think you have left away. Avoid the temptation to fall into the loop that says, "There’s nothing left. There’s nothing I can do. There’s no one I can help.”

We all recite the Bodhisattva Vow together. We don't take this vow simply to step into the happiness that's already present in life or to hope for smooth sailing. We take a vow to step into suffering wherever we encounter it.

We must be incredibly careful in our practice not to cling to the mere idea of getting things done.

Are you living in reality, or just a "faint copy" of it? 18th-century philosopher David Hume warned that our discursive minds are often just shadowboxing—flailing like a dog running in its sleep.

In this synthesis, Sensei Michael Brunner‍ of Ottawa Illinois bridges Western radical empiricism with the 13th-century wisdom of the Mumonkan at One River Zen. Discover how to drop the "conceptual shorthand" and wake up to the vivid, forceful field of the Ordinary Mind.

When you find yourself drifting off trying to place yourself somewhere more beautiful or serene than where you are–engage your hands and address the suffering that’s right in front of you.

If we allow ourselves to ease comfortably into wonder, we’ll recognize that life itself is much more vast than any expectation.

As we are following the tracks, deepening our practice, the glue that holds the small self together becomes less and less effectual and at some point, we catch a glimpse of our true nature.